Do you have something left to say?
I caught your mascara tears
staining your favorite blankets
funny why are you wearing make up?
when you knew of this break up...
somewhere to be after me?

yeah its not fair
to see the butcher cry
as they chop out the liver
bone saws the emotion

players dont cry, Babe
you should stick to your own game
Baby, I've played and gotten away
with being the "Broken Hearted"

I left the camera on
it captured the burglar
the ghost and my stalker
one wore my suits
the other used my make up
the other one chilled on the cross

they talked; about me like a saint
they made jokes about my nature
some good, some bad- like i like em
but they all hated my day job

caught myself while booking it
to shelter from your cold
stopped to breathe
with hands at my side
and decided to go for my own
warmth. not the absence of you
the lines-can slow me down
I'm not invisible now
      not even tryin to be

but sure dont exist
not in your world
heard the two wont mix
not in this world
i love you like a *****
not that you are in this world

ash in my mouth
hot mother *******
burning embers
in my mouth
you used to be
daily a routine
when did it end
when did it begin
skin the epitaph
characters inkd in

separated at birth
living life looking
glass works
setting change all its
fires
hookers
and worth

the city of lost gold
some settler found it
iron in a bouquet

suffrage wants no magnification

did we separate them long enough

lust and la la la love

they make an iffy couple

let alone combo

nitro

glycerine

cheap

risk

   and pink cement


babe dont mean anything
different
               to me

here i am with envy
     I'm cheap cigars
youreover there
sta sta staring again
at me- throwing questions
            with grins

no i dont want a negation

british accents or something

                weak

i just want to talk
and keep our services out of the back
youre just my customer now
in this 5
            Man
                Town
I want nothing more than to take

     both of the kids and leave

beckoning
me cold
on them
tiles i love
lithium
born alone
cold friend

4 that is what i have named by pen
and its ink is no longer blood
im writing with my breath now
for the life blood has run dry
and my breathing will carry me to my dying day